Flying Lessons
by Casia Gomez
Summary: Michael teaches a little Lucifer how to fly. Sounds like fluff.


**I don't own Supernatural. Enjoy!**

* * *

Back then—_way, way, way_ back then—God had recently created the second archangel. He named him after the brightest morning star. God instructed the older archangel to teach the newcomer how to fly and then left to create some more of the universe. Though, He didn't mention the fledgling's name to Michael, apparently too busy or what not.

Michael flew to the meadow dotted with violet and white wildflowers where his new little brother supposedly hung out. The eternal day was gorgeous. Heaven always had such nice, sunny days with a slight breeze moving the tall grass. "Hello?" Michael called out, a certain curiosity in his voice as to what the other archangel would be like.

He also remembered when God taught him how to fly. It was disastrous, ending in a bunch of grass stains on his wings. At least he now knew how to teach other angels how to fly properly.

The grass shifted, a boy around six dressed in the standard white robe standing up to face him. His eyes were an icy blue and his sandy brown hair was a lot lighter than Michael's. "Who are you?" the boy asked.

"I'm Michael, your older brother," the archangel replied. "And you are?"

The boy shifted on his feet shyly. "Lucifer."

"Aha," Michael bent down to get a better view of his brother's face. "Well, our Father said I must teach you how to fly."

"Oh," the young archangel mumbled, somewhat scared of what might happen next. Michael was the first angel that he'd met; a few others were scared to approach him as if he was something otherworldly. He'd also only been created a few hours ago, and so far his life had been lonely.

"First of all, you'll need to show me your wings," Michael straightened, extending his massive silver ones. They shone in the light like aluminum on a humid summer's day. "Now you."

Lucifer gulped, embarrassed that his own weren't all that large yet, but found more confidence as he could now fully see their shimmering golden form. They were breathtakingly beautiful, just as the gold morning star he was named for.

"Alright," Michael cleared his throat, "start flapping them, like this." He created a small gust, blowing a few flowers off their stems.

Lucifer tried doing the same as his older brother, accidentally beating his wings too hard; he fell on his bottom. Michael gently grabbed his wrists and pulled him up. "Try again," he encouraged with a faint smile. The little archangel nodded, already trusting his brother enough to help him with this situation. He had to make him proud.

Lucifer made a strong enough wind for Michael to be satisfied. "Okay. Try jumping and flapping them like before at the same time," Michael did both, launching into the air and turning around, motioning for his younger brother to follow.

The little archangel stared at the sky (a sky in Heaven?), challenging it to defy him. He ran a little ways, beating his small wings ferociously, and leapt into the air. The momentum wasn't enough, and he landed on his feet. He tried again, this time falling on his face. Yes, even Heaven had gravity.

Michael flew down beside him and bent over.

"I can't do it," Lucifer sighed hopelessly, pushing himself off the ground. His eyes got the tiniest bit moist. He was afraid that he'd disappointed his big brother.

Michael picked him up in his arms. "Of course you can. I believe that you can fly."

A small grin broke across Lucifer's face. "Really?"

"Really. I'm going to throw you in the air on the count of three."

"Okay!"

"One...two...three!" Michael launched him into the air with the hopes of someone who didn't want God to give him a scolding for breaking his brother.

Lucifer had the determination, flapping his wings like no fledgling had flapped before. He traversed a few meters, bobbing up and down as he did so. When he landed after his energy was sapped, he turned around to look at Michael, who clapped with a large smile on his face. "Great job, Lucifer!" He held out his arms and the little brother ran into them. Michael's enormous silver wings wrapped protectively around the small golden-winged archangel. He was quite proud of him, that warm, familiar feeling of accomplishment moving around in both of their chests.

"Thank you for showing me how to fly," Lucifer hugged him tightly. "Promise you'll always be my big brother?" Innocent ice-blue eyes met Michael's.

His gaze softened even more than it already had. "Of course I will," Michael promised. "As long as you promise me that you'll always be my little brother."

"I promise." After a large yawn, the exhausted archangel sleepily spoke the phrase: "I love you, Michael..."

"I love you, too, Lucifer," Michael replied softly.

"Forever?" his eyes closed and his head rested on Michael's shoulder. He was now sleeping.

"Forever," the older angel whispered, sitting in the meadow, brushing Lucifer's hair back, cradling the little archangel in his arms.


End file.
